


A Chance Encounter

by softestpunk



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Fluff, M/M, PWP, Pre-Canon, Snark, Trans Character, Trans!Geralt, but also porn with a great deal of Witchers Being Witchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/softestpunk
Summary: Geralt and Eskel run into each other on the Path and take the opportunity to tear each other's clothes off.





	A Chance Encounter

The sound of Eskel’s laughter filled Geralt’s ears as they fell back onto the bed, the two of them grinning like idiots. They’d both finished a few lucrative contracts in a row and could afford a decent room for the night—especially if they were sharing.

Eskel kissed eagerly, pinning Geralt to the bed, and Geralt allowed it because he knew exactly where this was going if he played his cards right. He was _really_ glad they’d managed to undress this time, because the sheets felt incredible under his skin and there was no way he wanted to pause to fumble with lacings.

“Good to see you in one piece,” Eskel murmured against Geralt’s mouth.

“You too,” Geralt hissed, his back arching as Eskel’s fingers trailed down, skimming over sensitive skin.

“New scar here,” Eskel said, running his thumb over Geralt’s hip where there was, in fact, a new scar, still raw and sensitive enough to make him squirm at the touch. “You collecting these, or what?”

Geralt snorted, curling both of his hands over Eskel’s shoulders and giving him a deliberate, meaningful nudge. “You could put your mouth to better use,” he suggested, laughing as Eskel rolled his eyes but dutifully shuffled down the bed, nuzzling his way along Geralt’s neck, kissing along his collarbones.

“I really don’t need all the foreplay,” Geralt complained, wanting Eskel _much_ further down as quickly as possible.

“What about me?” Eskel asked looking up at him. “Maybe I need it?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I could feel your cock pressing into my hip a few seconds ago.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Eskel tutted, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s belly and then hooking his knee over his shoulder. Geralt reached out, shoving his fingers deep into Eskel’s hair and pushing him further down to where he wanted him.

Eskel chuckled. “Demanding, much?” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of Geralt’s thigh.

“We can cuddle later. Happy?” Geralt asked, stroking his thumb over Eskel’s scalp.

He _did_ want the closeness and the warmth and the knowledge that his best friend was okay, but he also wanted to get off, and Eskel was making him wait. Which was _rude_.

“Yes, your majesty,” Eskel teased, lowering his face to nuzzle Geralt’s crotch, letting his nose slip between his folds before following up with a broad, slow lick that sent a jolt of pleasure to the pit of Geralt’s stomach.

Geralt grunted, barely holding back a whimper, and spread his legs a little wider. “Come _on,_ ” he demanded. “Sooner you get me off, sooner you can fuck me. Like you want to, right?”

Eskel looked up at him, pupils almost round, and nodded.

“You say that like you’re just gonna lie back and think of someone else,” Eskel murmured, smirking. “But we both know you got wet the first minute you saw me.”

“You’re easy.” Geralt shrugged, knowing Eskel wouldn’t be insulted by him teasing. “And no one’s fucked me properly in a while.”

“Poor Geralt,” Eskel grinned. “How long this time? Three days? Four?”

“It’s been two weeks,” Geralt complained. “Come on, Eskel. I’m dying here.”

Eskel chuckled against his thigh, sending weak vibrations to exactly where Geralt wanted his mouth, or his fingers, or his cock. Anything. Dammit, _anything_ , whatever Eskel was willing to give him as long as he did it _now_.

A low, needy groan escaped him as Eskel licked another broad stripe, this one harder and deeper, the tip of his tongue just barely slipping inside Geralt and making him shiver all over with the sudden shock of pleasure, a rush of slickness making him squirm. Eskel lapped it up with another laugh. He could play Geralt like a goddamn flute, and he knew it.

Better than a flute, even, since Eskel couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, but if Eskel told him they were taking a month off to just do this? Geralt would have been thrilled. Winter was his favourite time of year for a _reason,_ and it had nothing to do with the snow.

“Sweet Melitele’s tits, you taste incredible,” Eskel murmured, like he always did, as though it was the first time. Geralt gasped as he went back to work, toes curling at the searing heat of Eskel’s mouth against him, the confident strength of his tongue. He rocked his hips, fingers digging deep into Eskel’s scalp as wave after wave of arousal flowed through him.

He panted for breath, rushing toward the edge at record speed, so wound up and needy and excited to see Eskel that he couldn’t hold back. “Quit tasting and _do something_ ,” he demanded, expecting Eskel to laugh at him.

Instead, Eskel snorted and nudged him with his nose, sending a hot rush of pleasure deep into Geralt’s gut, making him hiss. Without giving Geralt any time to recover, he pressed his lips to him, sucking delicately at first and then lapping with his tongue, flicking back and forth, timing the strokes so Geralt’s breath hitched over and over, his head spinning from a lack of oxygen as Eskel _finally_ circled his entrance with the tip of his finger.

He’d barely gotten it as far in as the first knuckle when Geralt’s back arched, the tension that had been building in him bursting like an overloaded dam, soaking Eskel’s fingers so suddenly that Geralt’s vision whited out for a moment with the force of it.

_Damn_.

He’d needed that. Two weeks was way too long to go without this.

“Love it when you do that,” Eskel murmured, and Geralt looked at him just in time to see him touching the tip of his finger to his tongue, smirking as he met Geralt’s gaze.

“Love it when _you_ do _that,_ ” Geralt responded, aware that he wasn’t being entirely coherent.

With more effort than it should have taken, he rolled onto his side, leaving space for Eskel behind him on the bed. “Fuck me already,” he murmured, making himself comfortable even as anticipation of what came next made his belly tight.

“Were you raised in a barn?” Eskel asked, shuffling back up the bed and into place behind him, lifting Geralt’s leg and pulling it back to throw it over his hip for access.

Geralt bit his lip as Eskel’s cock nudged him, excitement welling up all over again. Eskel’s cock was fantastic, and Geralt couldn’t wait to have it inside him.

“I was raised by wolves,” Geralt responded, canting his hips to encourage Eskel to fuck him. “And _you_ taught me to associate you with incredible sex, so…”

“So this is somehow all my fault?” Eskel pressed a kiss to the back of Geralt’s neck, but still wasn’t _fucking him_ , and all the sweetness in the world couldn’t make up for that.

“I should make you wait,” Eskel murmured into his ear, nuzzling behind it and humming happily.

“If you ever wanna do this again, you won’t,” Geralt said, knowing it was a lie and sure that Eskel wouldn’t be fooled, either.

Eskel laughed, but he did at least rock his hips forward, the head of his cock finally, _finally_ slipping inside Geralt’s body, pinpricks of pleasure rippling through him as Eskel eased himself inside. Not that he needed to bother with _easing_ when Geralt was wet enough to take just about anything.

“Thank you,” Geralt sighed happily, letting his eyes fall closed now that he had what he wanted.

“You work wonders for my self-confidence.” Eskel laughed, splaying his hand over Geralt’s hip, pressing his nose into Geralt’s shoulder as he started to rock forward. Agonisingly slow at first, as usual, but Geralt knew how to speed him up when he got tired of that.

“As if you can’t have anyone you want,” Geralt said, breath hitching as Eskel found a sensitive spot and smiling at Eskel’s answering gasp as he clenched around him.

“You’ve also ruined me for anyone else.” Eskel paused to kiss Geralt’s neck again, his rhythm steady now, relaxed and easy and everything Geralt wanted from this. Two witchers could go for hours, after all, and he was _definitely_ happy to let Eskel fuck him to sleep.

“You’re beautiful,” he continued, and there was a time when Geralt would have hated to be called that, but he liked the way it sounded coming from his best friend.

Geralt hummed, letting himself enjoy the soothing rhythm of Eskel’s cock inside him, smiling as he wondered how mad Eskel would be if he just fell asleep like this.

The hand on Geralt’s hip trailed down, tracing slow circles on his thigh and then sliding across. He bit his lip as Eskel’s fingers parted his folds, crying out softly as he pressed the pad of his thumb down in just the right spot.

“No falling asleep, little wolf,” Eskel murmured. “Or I’ll shave off one of your eyebrows before I leave.”

Geralt laughed, but he was also absolutely certain Eskel _would_ do that.

“Careful who you’re calling _little_ ,” Geralt said, and turned over in one lightning-fast movement, pinning Eskel to the mattress this time as he straddled his hips and then sank down on his cock with a satisfied sigh.

Eskel grinned up at him like this was exactly what he wanted, and Geralt couldn’t help suspecting that maybe it _was_.

That made two of them, in that case.

Eskel’s hands slid up his thighs, coming to rest on his ass, fingers digging hard into the flesh. “Waiting for an invitation, or what?”

“You make _me_ wait,” Geralt said, rocking his hips once, forcefully, and watching Eskel’s pupils widen in response, “and now _you_ _’re_ demanding I go faster?”

Eskel chuckled, a broad grin spreading across his face, and Geralt couldn’t help himself smiling back, nor the way his heart skipped a beat at the look.

He loved this impossible asshole.

“I got you off,” Eskel said. “Fair’s fair.”

Geralt huffed, but rocked his hips again, letting his eyes fall closed at the perfect slide of Eskel’s cock inside him, big enough to put just the right amount of pressure on all his most sensitive spots. He leaned back, speeding up stroke after stroke until he was bouncing in Eskel’s lap, the rhythmic slapping of skin-on-skin and the sound of sharp, desperate breaths filling the room.

“Don’t come,” Geralt gritted out as he teetered on the edge himself, grunting with every downward stroke, his body finally tensing up as his second orgasm washed over him, rippling waves of pleasure shuddering their way down his spine. His lungs burned with the effort of breathing, his head spinning with the relief of getting to come again.

Eskel whimpered under him, blood spilling from his lip, eyes pleading, but his cock still hard inside Geralt.

A wave of affection washed over him as he leaned down, grinning broadly at Eskel before kissing him, gasping and sighing as he moved his hips again, oversensitive at first, heart still pounding in his ears.

“Thank you,” he murmured against Eskel’s lips, lapping the blood away gently, soothing the hurt. He shoved his tongue in Eskel’s mouth eagerly, tasting himself on Eskel’s tongue, and the warm copper spill of blood from his lip, and the familiar _something_ that was Eskel, the tingle of magic and the faintest note of home.

“Anything for you,” Eskel teased, except he wasn’t entirely teasing, and when Geralt laughed, what he meant was _okay_.

Geralt let his forehead rest against Eskel’s, rocking his hips in time with their heartbeats, his eyes closed and a smile on his lips, and he knew Eskel was smiling right back.

It could have been hours, Geralt thought. It was so easy to lose track of time with Eskel, and between the two of them they could have done this for _days_ if the rest of the world didn’t bother them.

“Can I come if I promise you another round in the morning?” Eskel asked eventually, his breathing ragged, and Geralt could smell the need on him, feel the tension in his thighs as though he’d been holding back for a while.

“You can come,” Geralt agreed. “If you help me out on the archespore contract I picked up today. _And_ promise me another round in the morning.”

“Deal,” Eskel said, clearly having figured out that spending more time on a contract would _also_ mean spending more time in bed.

Geralt grinned at him, meeting his eyes for long moments before surging forward to claim his lips, speeding his hips up for Eskel’s benefit, only feeling a tiny bit guilty that he’d been holding out even though Geralt hadn’t really meant him to.

Geralt moaned into Eskel’s mouth as he felt him come inside him in thick, hot spurts, the first good twitch of his cock setting off another bone deep orgasm that left Geralt shuddering through it, clinging to Eskel like a rock in a storm, sucking on his tongue and jerking his hips forcefully, riding out Eskel’s orgasm as well as his own, making the most of him while he had him.

Once the last little sparks of pleasure were rippling through him, Geralt let the remainder of his weight rest on Eskel’s chest, sure the other man could take it. What was the point of screwing another witcher if he couldn’t use them as a body pillow after.

Eskel sighed a deeply satisfied sigh, reaching out to stroke his fingers through Geralt’s hair.

“You’re staying there, huh?” he asked.

Geralt hummed. “You’re warm.”

“I need to piss,” Eskel complained.

“Hold it,” Geralt murmured in response, smirking.

Eskel snorted. “Five minutes,” he said, by which Geralt knew he meant half an hour or so, and that was fine by him.


End file.
